


a winter prelude

by crimtastic, peachgalaxy



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), MCU, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Darcyland, Dreams, F/M, Infinity Stone Soul World (Marvel), Timeline Shenanigans, Winter, moodboard, photo edit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23353600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimtastic/pseuds/crimtastic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachgalaxy/pseuds/peachgalaxy
Summary: There were thoughts in Stephen's head, pieces of memory that were not anchored in the past, whispers that would lead him to a future.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Stephen Strange, StrangeShock
Comments: 35
Kudos: 61
Collections: Marching Orders





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> another challenge from the darcyland discord!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for looking at my edit!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I slammed this out really quickly right before the deadline after 3 false starts during the week. Not terribly proofread, unbeta'd, hopefully it's a fun jaunt!

_“I thought I’d have to wait forever.”_

A touch passed down the bridge of Stephen’s nose, beckoning him to consciousness. The words were a whisper behind his ear and he turned his head towards the sound. Warmth was wrapped around him, as if an entire other body was tangled with his own. He resisted, trying to remain in the slumber. It had been a comfort he had foregone for so long, what did it matter how it had come to be?

_“Please, Stephen…”_

The words were a warning and a prayer. Stephen subconsciously pulled the warmth in his arms closer. Consciousness beckoned, the memory of Titan looming in the wings, assuring destruction of this comforting respite. The form shifted and he could feel fingers tap at his temple.

_“Wake.”_

Stephen’s eyes popped open. He was gripping a pillow tight to him, sweat at his brow as adrenaline pulsed through him. Glancing around, he did not recognize the room in the least, and wildly looking around for any sort of indication of where he was. His sight landed on dark wooden beams that crossed over the ceiling and slowly trailed down to take in the ambience of the room. It was full of blankets and hardwood floors and twinkling lights. There was a sofa crammed in between the bed and the small kitchenette on the other side. A door was on the other wall, presumably to the washroom. All in all, the twinkling lights and kind of fuzzy motion to everything, it was quite cozy for a small cabin. 

“Hello?” he asked, but there was no answer.

Getting out of the bed, he walked over to the window that showed an overcast day with snow piling up on the pane.

_“Well, there goes our plans on heading home.”_

_He turned around and wrapped his arms around the woman who stood there, brunette hair haphazardly piled on top of her head in a misshapen topknot. The warmth that exuded from her made him stoop to bury his nose in her neck. She giggled._

_“Did you really want to leave?” he asked. She hooked a leg up over his hip and he lifted her up easily. A mischievous smile spread over her face and she opened her mouth right as he set her on the single kitchenette counter…_

Stephen banged into the counter, pain blossoming in his hip as he connected with the sharp corner. The woman had disappeared, his thoughts askew, and he wildly looked around. Who was she? Where had she gone? They weren’t memories and yet they were _extremely_ vivid. The tightening in his groin could attest to that.

Frustrated, he ripped open the door and walked out to the snowy landscape. The snow was gusting around, a flurry of flakes that obscured his vision, but he did not feel the cold against his feet. He pushed forward, intent on finding the source of this madness.

 _Thwack_.

_The snowball burst around his shoulder, too soft to keep its form. He turned around and saw the woman there bedecked in a thick coat and knit hat. She was laughing and he felt a surge of elation rise in his chest._

_“Oh, that’s how it is?” he called to her and started to gather snow. It was absolute powder, unable to hold much of a form, and she took off running with a delighted squeal. He chased after her, the sensation of **play** so foreign that he felt almost outside of himself, an onlooker to someone who could enjoy life and not just watch from his dusty clocktower._

_Remembering himself, Stephen flicked his wrist to open a portal, but the telltale sparks would not appear. The joy drained out of him, concern and confusion replacing it. The woman appeared in front of him, eyebrows knit in concern._

_“What’s wrong?”_

_He grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her into his embrace tightly. The warmth radiated from her in waves and he shook his head._

_“I thought I lost you.”_

_She pushed back, the snow building up around her as she started to fade._

_“You only have to look for me.”_

Stephen blinked and she was completely gone. The woman’s face was so clear and had the hint of familiarity, as if she’d been entangled in the world of superheroes and spies for a long time, but he couldn’t name her. Someone involved, but just removed enough to be safe from the main fray.

His memories were in fragments from the last fight, the fight on Titan. Arguing with Stark. The kid. The brawl with the Guardians. The steps up the rock to where he sat down with the Time Stone and explored the future.

_“Maybe you’ll find me sooner this time.”_

_“Are you calling me slow?” he asked. Her legs were splayed over his lap as they sat on the couch inside the cabin. He held his left hand out to her as his right rubbed her calf. She was tracing designs into his skin, a whisper of magic about her as he could imagine the patterns she was marking him with._

_“I’m calling you careful,” she said with a smile and he sighed in exasperation._

_“I have to be.”_

_“I know.”_

Stephen jolted back into the cold reality. He was sitting back in the cabin, alone. The warmth of her invisible presence instantly snuffed out. He’d seen similar tricks of reality before, but never quite so personal.

 _Sooner this time_ … the words repeated in his head. That meant she was aware of how he manipulated time. That meant she wasn’t in his past, but in his future. Were these snippets from the recesses of his memory, trying to piece together a pattern for him to follow?

He balked at the idea of exploring the thoughts of the future once again. The millions of threads that ended in the destruction of Earth, of the death of friends, of the bodies floating in space in a voided graveyard pummeled at his senses to _save them_.

_“Please, Stephen…”_

_They were standing with her hands clasped in his. The wintery landscape was awash in reds and golds as the sun set in the background._

_“I don’t have power here,” he said weakly. While he wasn’t dying on repeat, the world felt tilted in a similar way to the Dark Dimension. He was waiting like everyone else, hopeful that all the chess pieces he had placed would move in the correct places at the perfect time._

_“If you don’t look, you could miss me entirely,” she dropped his hands and brought them up to cradle his face. “We both know I don’t have the ability to hold these memories or find you again. Please.”_

_“I’m a consistent asshole, Darcy-” her name spilled off his lips and he felt a jolt of surprise. She smiled._

_“I’m counting on that.”_

_And she leaned up to press her lips against his. He grasped at her, fingers tangling with the ends of her hair as he lifted her up._

Stephen stumbled backwards, Darcy disappearing once more. Growling under his breath, he sat down in the similar position he’d been in while exploring the future. He closed his eyes and focused.

Now that he had her name, it was like a large flipbook had been passed over Stephen’s mind, a snapshot of the many futures that involved Darcy. He’d meet her countless times, in various forms and roles, so many futures where she was a main character in the fray. 

The futures where she was a prime support, coming in to connect with the ripped edges that had left the Avengers team asunder, mending the gaps.

The futures where she gained the skills to defend herself, a gun riding in a holster somewhere on her body and a hacking underworld at her fingertips. 

The futures where she went head to head against politicians, arguing law and constitutional rights.

Each future was slightly different. They passed so fast, he struggled to remember details about any of them. Each time he would instantly recognize her, but she didn’t always recognize him.

Opening his eyes, the world had shifted into a cold New York setting. Ice settled against the edges of the buildings and he felt more than saw a warmth that led him through the streets. He stopped at a building with a sign of swoopy lettering declaring _La Serre_.

The world began to melt upwards.

“Wait!” he yelled. “No!”

The world did not listen, continuing to drip to the sky and Stephen started to tear through the building, but it was too late. Reality burst back into focus and Doctor Strange was needed once again.

After the battle, Doctor Strange returned to the Sanctum. The triumph over Thanos was a body sagging relief, but his heart felt hollow. Stephen had been too late. Darcy was lost in the snow of that unusual realm. There was no way to know if he lived on a thread of time that she existed in, or if she would recognize him if she did. She’d warned him, but he hadn’t acted fast enough. He could only hope that the small hint he’d been given would be enough.

Months passed. The world had slowly begun to rebuild, priorities made clear, and things were looking much better by Thanksgiving. Stephen took regular walks through the New York streets, searching for _La Serre_. As more and more time passed and he failed to find it, Stephen began to wonder if it was abandoned during the difficult months.

He walked one late evening, the ground wet as spring flirted with winter to take over. Stephen could see the ice on the buildings and wondered if he’d always find winter a special torture where he felt compelled to search for her. He’d given up hope, the beat of the path a new comfort for him during these months of work. Stephen was always in demand.

In the moment of distraction, he felt a patch of black ice underneath his heel. Skidding around a moment, he remained standing but glanced around warily. There were only a handful of people on the street and he looked up to see that most of the apartments high above were dark. It must be very late…

 _La Serre_.

Stephen blinked, the sign lit up by a single lightbulb, tucked further back than he remembered.

He took a few steps and reached out to push open the door. It gave away with no resistance as he pushed through it. The hallway was still cold, leading down a dark corridor to an outdoor courtyard. There were half a dozen greenhouses constructed, with twinkling lights softened by drapes. 

It was easy to see that the tables within were decorated with the most ornate tableware. The silence was oppressive, and he wondered at this place existing after all the troubles of the world. Looking down at the last one, he saw a woman sitting at the head of a table, tapping at her phone in a bored manner.

She looked up at him and her face brightened. He found himself gaping at her from the doorway before he realized he’d moved across the entire courtyard.

Darcy’s face split into a wide smile.

“I thought I’d have to wait forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the little escape I wrote. Thanks for reading!


End file.
